March 2 A wet, endless commute


Vallejo 7:15 AM
It’s really pouring and I run to my ride. Another VW Sedan, a 4-door today. I realize once I’m seated in the back seat that it must be a smoker’s car. Cough, cough. The car smells bad.

The driver’s big black briefcase is on the back seat next to me. There’s a small re-cycling situation on the floor – a grouping of empty plastic water bottles and a few aluminum soda cans are in and around a square plastic box. The driver reaches around behind the seat and plunks an empty lime green plastic drinking glass into the container as we start our journey. He looks good in a rust-colored corduroy jacket and dark brown trousers. The front seat passenger is a handsome young islander looking guy in a great slightly damp trench coat – the kind with all the epaulets and belts and buttoned tabs. I see he’s carrying a bright red umbrella – a nice touch.

The driver must have a sore muscle. He periodically leans forward and pulls up his shoulder. I study his face in the rear view mirror and decide he looks a bit like a ravaged and very tired Michael Caine.

We’re off to a fast start, going 60 mph, passing the other 3 lanes of very slo-mo traffic, but the fun ends within a few miles and we’re crawling along with everyone else. The car pool lane is now as full as the other 3 lanes, which means that either there are many more carpoolers this morning (NOT!) or there are people cheating – single drivers sneaking over into our lane. But they’re safe today; in this downpour it’s hard to see who’s in a car. I don’t see the highway patrol out here, which is a break for the cheaters. The fine for being in the carpool lane with fewer than 3 people starts at over $300 and doubles and triples for repeated offenses.

KNBR Radio has a discussion going on about Senator Bunting from Virginia who is single-handedly blocking unemployment benefits for 100,000 people today. Perhaps his concern over spending money we don’t have is well-intentioned, but where was he when the war in Iraq was costing us over $200 million a day and dumping us into the mess we’re in now?

We’re moving slightly faster as we get into the last leg of the trip. It is really a deluge out here on the road. The car windows are all fogged over and the stale smell of cigarette smoke wraps around us like a mildewed blanket.

We slow down again at the final curve before the bridge, past the Eastshore State Park that runs 8 1/2 miles along the East Bay shoreline (see http://www.ebparks.org/parks/eastshore for the whole story on what is called the most outstanding achievement in the history of open space protection). Moving at only 5 mph past the marshes at the edge of the road, I can see skinny-legged sandpipers browsing through the grasses.

Here we go now moving quickly past the toll plaza’s 18 frozen lanes of gridlock and onto the bridge. The bridge is a soft gray tunnel of rain and fog, Alcatraz is barely visible out there in the Bay, and then the City’s landmarks begin to emerge – the Transamerica pyramid, the Bank of America monolith, Coit Tower. We’re finally here at 8:45 and I thank the driver, happily breath in some fresh air before maneuvering myself and umbrella to the bus stop.

One Response

  1. I’m really enjoying reading about your carpooling adventures. I find that I mentally envision the terrain; the weather; the car itself as I read your entries. Keep up the good writing!

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